Watching a father and daughter play, daughter chasing father, father running from daughter. The scene reminds me….
…it reminds me of a time I was chasing my father. I was the daughter, playing with my father. My father ran from me as I laughed and reached. Then my father fell. He fell backwards. His leg was bleeding. I remember his leg, bleeding in the bathtub. I remember feeling sad, feeling guilty for all my reaching and laughing…
The child who tires of running and singing is a child who was taught that life is only sadness and strife and dissatisfaction. This should never be.